


No Touching!

by rhincoln



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Alcohol, College, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, M/M, No Homo, Semi-Public Sex, rhink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 09:22:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9315263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhincoln/pseuds/rhincoln
Summary: Gregg decides to take the duo out to a gay club for a lark. It’s all fun and games, until Rhett thinks it isn’t. (In other words, until Link gets hit on.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElectricDove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElectricDove/gifts).



> this was written for my lovely friend Natas (@touchinganelectricdove on tumblr) for her birthday, though this is a day late :’) <3 go wish her a belated happy bday because she’s why you get this free smut hel yez….
> 
> —
> 
> warning: not sure how dub-con it is if they’d totally fuck sober + they’re not that drunk + they’re equally not that drunk but. just a warning, if you are sensitive to that!

 

It starts immediately. Like, Link has just got out of the shower  _ immediately,  _ he’s not even dressed  _ immediately. _

Rhett, from where he’s sitting on the bed, looks up at Link and Link feels bare standing there in just a small towel covering his nethers.

 

It’s not just that Rhett looks up at him. It’s that he starts talking, _ im-me-di-ate-ly. _

 

“Nice and clean, h-huh?” Rhett stammers out quite lamely, but it ticks off Link all the same.

 

“What?” Link asks, trying to get himself a pair of underpants in peace.

 

Rhett doesn’t answer, just keeps up with his stupid quips and remarks. “Oh and you think this warrants clean boxers?”

 

Link pauses, turning toward him swiftly. “What the heck are you talking about?”

 

“Nothin’...” Rhett says and averts his gaze when Link’s hand tugs at the knot where his towel is secured around his waist.

 

Link turns away, because he’d rather Rhett see his butt than his junk, if Rhett were to look.

 

Even with how decidedly not-shy Link is around his best friend and roommate (because they’re just two guys, c’mon), Link still rushes in pulling his boxers up when Rhett speaks again:

 

“Just sayin’... You’re takin’ your time gettin’ ready. Kinda feels like you’re excited for this.”

 

Link couldn’t say the same for Rhett, like, at all — Rhett is not only not excited, he has apparently decided to violently protest the notion by making himself virtually unpresentable.

 

But nevermind that. Link almost trips over the boxers because it’s like he can feel Rhett’s eyes on his bare, naked butt.

 

Once he’s decent, Link turns back toward Rhett and snarkily says, “No need to be jealous just because you’re going in the shirt you’ve been wearing for the past three days. It was your own decision…” Link says, deciding on the spot to wear some cologne for Rhett. Well — not  _ for  _ him, because of him. To spite him.

 

_ “Jealous?” _ Rhett asks, sounding it out in the highest pitched voice Link has ever heard him speak in. The pitch goes back down when Rhett asks, still incredulous, “What would I be jealous of?”

 

“Me,” Link says simply, and maybe it’s how good he looks when he looks at himself in the mirror that makes him feel like he’s just ruined Rhett’s life with just that one word.

 

“Why would I be jealous of you? You know that this is a gay bar we’re going to?” Rhett asks, that smart-ass tone like Link  _ actually  _ doesn’t know.

 

“I know,” Link says.

 

Rhett scoffs. “What are you, gonna act gay?”

 

“I’m not gonna  _ act  _ anythin’—”

 

Rhett snorts. “Yeah, guess that’s something you just  _ are.” _

 

The way Rhett says it kind of makes Link not want to speak to him again that evening.

 

But there’s a catch, there’s something Link needs to reassure Rhett of and it always feels more important than anything Link might feel inside.

 

“I ain’t gay,” Link says.

 

“But you wanna look good at the gay bar—for what,  _ yourself?” _ Rhett asks, now smirking.

 

Though ‘yes’ would probably suffice, Link knows that Rhett knows that neither of them ever fix themselves up for  _ themselves. _ Or each other, Link thinks — an odd thought. Or maybe not so odd, because though Rhett might not care about what he looks like in front of Link, Link has to admit that he cares what he looks like in front of Rhett. It’s basic human decency. And it ain’t weird wanting to look good for those close to you.

 

But back to the topic at hand. Link answers Rhett’s question with a question, “Haven’t you ever thought about hooking up with a guy?”

 

When he asks, Link expects Rhett to have an aggressive outburst, maybe even go as far as to curse.

 

But all Rhett does is splutter out a weak, “N-no.”

 

And when Link raises his eyebrows at him, Rhett averts his gaze, muttering: “What’s wrong with you, man?”

 

Link shrugs and goes to pick out a pair of jeans.

 

As he’s putting them on, he says: “I don’t know why you think it’s so weird. People always talk about experimenting in college. The most you and I have done is experiment with different mixes of alcohol and sodas.”

 

“I ain’t about to experiment with you in any other sense,” Rhett says.

 

“No one asked you to,” Link says, now getting a little angry. Rhett’s oddly quiet after Link says this, so Link just goes on. “There’s plenty of guys who’d wanna hook up with me,” he says, blushing profusely, busying himself with picking out a shirt — he settles for a white button-up that he just has a feeling will make him look suave.    
Oh, and, it almost sounded like he was flirting with Rhett, just there. Rhett doesn’t seem to pick up on it, thankfully.

 

And it’s like in that moment that Link decides to definitely try it with a guy, because he briefly thinks about doing it with Rhett. Since that could never happen, Link likes to think there’s other guys who would want him. He’s in his senior year of college, for Christ’s sake. What better time to do it than now? 

 

“Not in that shirt…” Rhett mumbles, almost too quiet for Link to hear. Almost.

 

—

Rhett started talking  _ immediately. _ And he doesn’t stop an hour later, when Gregg comes back from his (girl?)friend’s to pick them up, let them know that they’re going.

 

(A second later Link learns that she is a  _ girl _ friend, in fact she’s the one they’re going to the club with, since her best friend apparently works there. Link never really knew the reason behind them going, really, and it might be a little telling of him for so easily following Gregg to a gay bar as a  _ joke.) _

What Rhett does as they walk behind Gregg and Maggie-Dee, the girlfriend, is talk, again — he asks another one of his stupid questions, which Link ignores completely in favour of voicing something he’s just come to the realisation to.

 

“Why are you even going?”

 

Rhett looks a bit taken aback by the question, and while Link waits for Rhett to stammer out a reply, he tries to recall what Rhett had just said.

 

_ “Aren’cha glad ya changed?”  _ Link thinks Rhett had asked, and maybe Link should have given him the pleasure of answering, because the answer would have been yes. The cornflower blue polo Link exchanged his button up for did look a lot better on him.  _ “Cause of your eyes,” _ Rhett had justified when he suggested Link should wear it, and Link thought it a little fishy that Rhett was advising him on what to wear. Until he put it on, and saw how nicely it hugged his body, tight in all the right places.

Still, the question in his mind as to why Rhett was advising him persisted, and Link couldn’t see the answer. Until Rhett gave it to him there, on their way out of the campus, as they walked behind Gregg and Maggie-Dee.

 

“Cause it’s gonna be funny,” Rhett says, answering any question Link had regarding Rhett going to the gay bar, “Especially with you tryin’ to get it on with some guy.”

 

“I won’t just be tryin’,” Link says indignantly.

 

Rhett’s quiet for a moment. “That’s gross, man,” he then says faintly, shaking his head.

 

“Says the guy who hasn’t showered in three days.”

 

“I showered yesterday—”

 

“You stink all the same,” Link says, a grin tugging at his lips.

 

“Well maybe you can find yourself a new best friend at the club. One that smells like a freakin’ flower,” Rhett’s grinning now, and it makes Link laugh.

 

Gregg hears the laughter, undoubtedly, because he looks over his shoulder at them. “Y’all excited?” Gregg asks, turning around to face them and walking the few steps backwards.

 

Link nods and smiles easily, and Rhett falls into a grave silence, looking down at his shoes.

 

“Aw, Rhett,” Maggie-Dee says, looking over her shoulder. “I’m sure it’ll be fun. There’s always some single girls there too...”

 

Link isn’t sure why, but that notion dampens his mood a little.

 

Rhett shakes his head, though, letting Maggie-Dee know that: “I don’t care, really. Just there to have fun. Homos are freakin’ hilarious.”

 

Maggie-Dee slows down to fall into step with Rhett. “What?”

 

Rhett colours.

 

Maggie-Dee speaks softly, “I think it would do you good to be a little less homophobic.”

 

“I ain’t homophobic,” Rhett counters. “A phobia is a fear — I ain’t afraid. I just think it’s freakin’ weird.”

 

Maggie-Dee scrunches her brow up. “Why is it weird?”

 

Rhett doesn’t waste a second in replying, with an expression on his face like he can’t believe she’s even asking, “It ain’t the way it’s meant to be.”   
  


“Alright, but that’s not what makes it hilarious, is it? You shouldn’t be amused by it, then—”   
  


“What’s hilarious,” Rhett says, teeth gritted, “Is how they think they can live like that openly with no consequences. Especially when we’ve been told all our lives that it’s wrong,” Rhett gets huffy, seemingly bothered by the topic. “They don’t have to shove it in my face.”   
  


_ “Why do you care,” _ Link wants to ask, but doesn’t get to because of Maggie-Dee.   
  


Not because she speaks first, more because the look she gives Rhett has even Link wondering. She looks at Rhett with wide eyes, lips parted like she’s just come to some great realisation. More than anything, Link wants in on it.   
  


“Do you wish they were more... considerate?” she asks.   
  


Maggie-Dee slows Rhett down with a hand on his arm, and Gregg starts up a conversation with Link before Link can catch Rhett’s answer. So the couples — no, pairs — switch, with Rhett and Maggie-Dee walking a few steps behind Gregg and Link. They talk in hushed voices, and from all the times Link looks over his shoulder at them, he can see Rhett trying real hard to seem disinterested. In fact, he’s almost trying to seem tough.   
  
Except one time, when Rhett gets surprisingly loud when he asks,  _ “Gregg _ asked us out ‘cause he thinks—?   
  
Maggie-Dee shushes him before he can finish his question.   
  


And when they’re in line at the club it’s like both Rhett and Maggie-Dee would rather die than make eye contact with Link.   
  


Link gets enough of this when they’re almost at the door. He puts his hand on Rhett’s arm to ask him what’s up, and Rhett immediately shakes it off.   
  


“Don’t touch me,” Rhett says.   
  


“What?” Link asks, thinking briefly of being petty and putting his hand back on Rhett’s arm, keeping it there.   
  


“Don’t touch me,” Rhett says again, and maybe Link can’t believe it but it’s there — Rhett is serious.   
  


“What are you — a freaking artwork in a museum?” Link blurts out, for lack of something to say.   
  


Rhett briefly gives him a look like he’s amused, but then says, “And no sayin’ crap like that. I don’t want anyone thinkin’...” Rhett trails off, hands in his pockets as he looks away.   
  


Link gapes at him. “Are you serious?”   
  


Rhett shoots him a quick look after which he looks in front of himself yet again. “Yeah.”   
  


Link turns away. Maggie-Dee smiles at Link. What business has she got, giving out apologetic smiles for Rhett?   
  


Later tonight, he should really get her alone and ask about what Rhett and her were talking about.

  
As it is, Link moves away from Rhett, tries not to even look at him, but ends up looking at him anyway. At least sixty percent of the times he looks at Rhett, he catches Rhett looking at him, and a hundred percent of him catching Rhett looking has Rhett instantly looking away. 

Gregg looks between Rhett and Link and in the end steps toward Link, tries to return to their earlier conversation about the kind of music that might play and the kind of drinks they might order.   
  
—   
  
Link orders a pink daiquiri. He gets it in a perfectly dainty glass — it’s perfect because his goal when ordering wasn’t just to get something tasty, it was to get the campest possible drink, one that might get a subtle rise out of Rhett, even.

If Rhett has an opinion on Link’s daiquiri, he doesn’t voice it. They stand at a table in the back, Maggie-Dee and Gregg taking sips from each other’s glasses of respectively red and white wine. Link scans the room with his eyes, trying to pick out a guy he might give a little bit of his attention to. There’s so many guys, and seemingly all of them look really good. Still, Link can’t focus on either one of them. He orders his second daiquiri to distract himself from the feeling of Rhett standing so close to him in the dark.    
  
By the third one, Rhett is by his side at the bar, replacing his empty beer bottle for a full one. Link, who’d been adamant on not looking at Rhett since they’d come into the bar, turns to look at him, and is faced with the sight of Rhett looking straight ahead of himself. He briefly thinks of talking to Rhett, knowing full well that to the outsider it might look like he’s chatting Rhett up at the bar, but he doesn’t mind it too much. Before he does anything, though, Link looks up at Rhett for a good few minutes, and it’s after a while that Rhett turns to look at him, only to ask:   
“What is it?”   
  
Link shakes his head, turns away.   
When Link gets the pink drink placed in front of him, he beams at the bartender, and the smile lingers on his lips as someone to his right taps his shoulder.   
  
“Hey,” the shoulder-tapper says, all tall and dark and handsome.   
  
“H-hey,” Link stammers out, turning toward him.    
  
“I’m Trevor,” the guy says, leaning in so that Link can hear it over the music. Or he’s just leaning in because he wants to. Link’s not sure, but all of it makes him a little dizzy. “I like your shirt,” Trevor says, and Link smiles.   
  
“Thank you — I like your… Um — I’m Link,” Link says stupidly, looking at the guy with wide, happy eyes. “This is my—” he turns around to introduce Rhett, and finds that Rhett is gone. Frantic, Link turns around, looking around the bar for Rhett. “Heh,” Link breathes out a laugh in place of Rhett’s name, voice all daiquiri.    
  
Trevor just smiles at him. “You here with someone?”    
  
Link looks past Trevor toward their table in the corner, sees Rhett standing there all aloof, sees Gregg and Maggie-Dee rubbing all up on each other as they kiss like they’re fit to let everyone in the bar know that they’re straight. 

“Just my friends,” Link says, returning his gaze to Trevor’s big brown eyes. “You?”   
  
Trevor nods, “My sister’s here, but she’s with her girlfriend.”   
  
“Oh,” Link says, shouting over the din of music, chatter and drinking. “So are you just here as support?” he asks dumbly, but figures it was subtle enough for Trevor, who shakes his head and says:   
  
“I was thinking I’d come here to dance with a cute guy.”   
  
Link can’t help but to blush. “Um — uh — have you, uh, um. Any luck finding one?” Link asks smoothly.   
  
Trevor nods, smiling at him. “I’m just waiting for him to finish his daiquiri.”   
  
Link finishes his drink in a second. 

Before he can look for Rhett at their table, he is swept away to the dance floor. Uninhibited by anything like embarrassment and encouraged by the sugary alcohol he’s ingested, Link moves his body easily in tune to the music. Link quickly learns that Trevor is a guy with a bubbly personality, who laughs easily and commends Link for his dancing while dancing ten times better than Link ever could.    
  
To the first few songs, they’re just jumping around with the crowd, showing off their  _ great _ moves and having fun. The songs don’t really change to anything more seductive, but still, Trevor moves further up into Link’s space, and Link lets him.    
  
Link looks behind Trevor — there, on the other end of the room, is Rhett, and Rhett’s looking at him real intensely.    
  
Link suppresses a shiver looks back at Trevor.   
  
“You okay?” Trevor asks, leaning in to say it into his ear.   
  
Link nods, breathes out a laugh and presses a bit closer to him. Link soon learns that over Trevor’s shoulder, Link has got a perfect view of Rhett. It’s only because Rhett’s looking back at him, only because he can see Link looking, that Link looks away. He puts his hands on Trevor’s waist and they move together, Trevor running his own gentle hand up Link’s back. Link decides to focus on him a little, plays the game of Trevor nudging his nose and trying to kiss him, and Link evading his lips, letting Trevor kiss his cheek.   
  
Trevor looks great, smells great, moves great. And Link can’t stop thinking about Rhett. 

When Link flicks his eyes up again, expecting them to be met with Rhett’s, he can’t spot Rhett at their table. His gaze roams around the room until he finds Rhett a bit closer to him than before, with a girl’s arms around his neck. She’s a fair bit shorter than him, and she’s pulled him down so that their heads could stay close as they dance.   
  
So there  _ are _ straight girls in this club.    
  
Link couldn’t care less. He leans away from Trevor a little so that he can look into his face again, and tilts his head forward, nosing along Trevor’s cheek. Trevor parts his lips, and Link’s ready to move his head to the side and slot their mouths together. He opens his eyes, though, and sees Rhett looking at him. The girl tries to kiss Rhett, but he moves his head, evading her lips.    
Link’s eyes widen. He keeps touching Trevor, and Trevor is touching him, but Link doesn’t take his eyes off Rhett. And Rhett doesn’t take his eyes off Link.   
  
Rhett tells the girl something, and then he straightens up, moving out of her grasp. He sidesteps her easily, eyes on Link, always, as he makes his way through the crowd.    
The crowd is dense, so dense in fact that when Rhett walks over to Link to walk by him, he’s so close that Link’s breath stops in his throat. Rhett tilts his head down a little, almost brushing his nose against Link’s. Link watches Rhett’s eyelashes flutter closed for a moment, and in that moment Link can imagine leaning up and kissing Rhett over Trevor’s shoulder — before Rhett moves back, starts shoving his way through the rest of the crowd, leaving Link to follow him with his gaze, until he can’t see him behind Trevor’s head.   
  
Link turns his head so stupidly fast that he almost knocks it into Trevor’s.    
  
Trevor looks at him concernedly, and then Link starts rambling, looking over at the direction Rhett left in. “I — I can’t… I gotta go to the toilet,” Link says. “I’m sorry, uh,” he says, extricating himself from Trevor so that he can walk away, “I’m not that cute anyway—” he says and turns, runs to the toilets.   
  
There’s a room after you pass the door with the ‘toilets’ sign that’s just a small space where you can decide to either enter through the ‘women’s’ or the ‘men’s’ doors.   
  
Rhett’s standing there, by the ‘men’s’ door, leaning against the wall.

“Hey…” Link says softly, stepping into the middle of the small space.   
  
Rhett says nothing, just watches him quietly. He takes a step toward Link, still looking at him as intensely as he did back on the dancefloor.   
  
“Why didn’t you stay out there with your new pal?” Rhett asks.   
  
“I…” Link says slowly, his alcohol-addled mind clearing a little to make him realise what he’s just done. Without a single word spoken, Rhett had gotten him to follow him into the bathroom. “I need a piss.”   
  
“Oh,” Rhett says, nodding. “G’on,” he says, tilting his head toward the door to the men’s room.   
  
When Link stays in place, not really needing to use the bathroom, Rhett grins. He quirks an eyebrow, narrows his eyes a little and leans in, essentially making a face like he hadn’t heard Link properly. “Or did you say you need a kiss?” Rhett asks.    
  
Link would usually think Rhett sounds like he’s reading straight out of a book of (very specific…) bad pick-up lines but now, upon hearing it, his breath catches in his throat. “That’s not what I — um — I…”

“Should have kissed that guy you were dancin’ with…”   
  
Link feels a little guilty at the mention of Trevor, having left him there on the dancefloor in his pursuit of Rhett.

And then Link feels guilty no more, because Rhett pulls him close, grabs him by the ass. Rhett’s got such a grip there that he pulls Link up, and Link rides up Rhett’s body a little.  

“Why didn’t you?” Rhett asks, his nose brushing against Link’s own briefly.   
  
“Uhhh…” Link says cleverly, closing his eyes to the feeling of Rhett so close to him, shivering a little.   
  
“What’s his name?” Rhett asks harshly, and Link gulps.   
  
“Trevor,” he says, flicking his eyes up to look at Rhett.   
  
“Why didn’t you let  _ Trevor _ kiss you?”    
  
“Don’t want him,” Link mutters. He feels like he can, what with his thigh being pressed against a clear sign of Rhett’s arousal.   
  
“Really?” Rhett asks, leaning down to touch his lips to the side of Link’s mouth. “The way you were dancin’... Thought you wanted to take him home… Thought you wanted to fuck him.”   
  
Link shakes his head, which is spinning a little.    
  
Rhett snakes his other hand under Link’s other thigh and pulls him up completely.    
  
“Oh, Gosh—” Link squeaks, holding onto Rhett’s shoulders for balance. Link slowly slides his hands up from Rhett’s shoulders to his face, tilting his head up so that he can look down into his eyes. Rhett’s not looking at his eyes, though.   
  
So Link leans down to kiss him, passionately. Rhett responds eagerly, pushing up to press his lips harder against Link’s own.

It all happens so fast, Link almost can’t wrap his head around kissing Rhett before Rhett spins them around easily, pushes Link against the door to the men’s room. The pressure opens the door, so Rhett walks them in. He breaks the kiss to breathe after a while, and Link, his own chest heaving with shallow breaths, uses it to take a quick glance around the restroom.   
  
There’s guys in the cubicles, at the urinals, there’s a guy sitting on the radiator rolling a cigarette, and there’s something Link has never seen at one of the sinks.   
Standing there, leaning against the long counter in which the sinks sit, is a drag queen — but that’s not what surprises Link. 

It’s the thing she’s holding, Link’s pretty sure it’s a freaking cellphone.

But even such a novelty can’t compare to a more important novelty in Link’s life — the kisses Rhett is pressing into his neck. Rhett walks him over right to the sinks and sits him down onto one of the counters. Link has a clear view of the cellphone and his slightly inebriated mind can’t get enough of looking at it. But there’s something better going on here, something Link should focus on — the way the bulge at the front of Rhett’s jeans rubs against his own. And oh, then Rhett speaks.   
  
“I wanna fuck you,” Rhett breathes. Link tears his eyes from the cellphone immediately. 

“Yeah,” Link agrees, nodding his head, “I want you to fuck me, too.”

“Ugh, wait,” Link hears real close to him, but he knows it’s not Rhett who says it. “Hold on…”    
  
Link turns to the source of the voice and sees the drag queen hold the cellphone between her shoulder and her ear  _ in a really cool way _ as she rummages for something in her clutch, before she extends a hand toward him.    
  
“Here,” she says, understandingly.   
Link opens his palm and accepts two small packets into it.   
  
“Thanks,” Link says as Rhett stops kissing his neck. Moving away a little to peer over into Link’s hand, Rhett asks, “What’s goin’ on? What’s that?”   
  
Link smiles, breathless. “We got a condom and some lube,” he nods his head toward the one who has bestowed the generosity upon them.   
  
Rhett turns to look over his shoulder. “Hey, thanks,” he shouts after her.   
  
She gives him a little wave and says, “Don’t mention it, straight boy,” before resuming her phone call. 

It’s not seconds after she walks off that Rhett pulls Link off the sink and drags him over into the first open cubicle. It’s not the cleanest, inside. But it’s good enough — all Link really needs is the door to lean against to as Rhett presses against his back, kisses the side of his neck.    
  
“You’re mine,” Rhett says as soon as they’re sort-of alone, giving Link’s neck a short but stinging bite.    
  
“Yeah,” Link breathes, closing his eyes as Rhett rubs up against him.   
  
“G’nna fuck you so good,” Rhett mutters, setting Link on fire. 

“C’mon,” Link whines, impatient. The warm feeling of being drunk only intensifies the feeling of every one of Rhett’s touches, and Link aches for more. He reaches back with one hand to touch Rhett, runs his hand down his chest and settles it at Rhett’s zipper, where he presses his palm, experimentally rubs, squeezes. Witnesses Rhett hiss out a cuss word.    
Link uses his other hand to touch himself, slipping it under his own shirt to brush the tips of his fingers against his nipples. He doesn’t care. His mind feels fuzzy, and his body feels amazing.    
  
Link stops running his hand over his own chest to slide it down and use it to unbutton his jeans. Rhett’s pressed right up against him, so Link slips his hand out from between them, lets Rhett’s dick press right where it needs to be, lets Rhett rut against him. It’s not nearly good enough through all the layers of fabric, but it still turns Link on beyond all reason.   
  
When he’s unbuttoned his pants, Link pulls them down and lets them pool around his feet. Rhett unbuttons his own and he has no time to bend over and pull them down before Link pulls them down just enough to reach into his boxers, wrap his hand around Rhett’s dick. He gives it a gentle tug, feeling it in his hand, gently and slowly as if weighing it. Looking up into Rhett’s eyes, he slowly pumps his hand up and down and up again before slipping it out of Rhett’s boxers.    
Rhett kisses him, and Link claws at Rhett’s waistband to pull his boxers down too, blunt fingernails scratching the trail of fair hair above Rhett’s dick. When it’s free to do so, Rhett’s dick springs out, the tip of it glistening with precum and letting Link know just how aroused Rhett really is. 

Rhett’s hands find their way to Link’s ass and he grabs it, digging his fingers into it. Link pushes back into his hands, presses even further back to have Rhett’s dick against his ass. There’s still a layer of fabric between them, but not for long. Rhett pulls Link’s boxers down, and Link doesn’t know how Rhett manages to get his hands on Link’s ass that fast, but he can’t complain. The feeling of Rhett’s rough, warm hands on him is incredible, and reminds Link of how he can’t wait to have Rhett inside him.    
Rhett takes his time, though, admiring Link’s ass, running his hand up to the small of his back, pushing up the shirt he’d picked out for Link earlier.   
  
“Mine,” Rhett reinstates possessively, and Link nods feverishly.   
  
“Yours,” Link confirms.   
  
Rhett gives his ass another appreciative squeeze which has Link gasping sharply.    
  
“Crap, where’s the—” Link asks, breathless, looking at his hands and down at his pants and then back at Rhett.   
  
“Got ‘em,” Rhett says, holding the condom and the lube in his hand. Link doesn’t know when Rhett took them, doesn’t remember handing them over, but he doesn’t care, just urges Rhett to hurry up in opening the lube while he takes the condom himself.   
  
Link opens the packet and rolls the condom on, taking his time as his curious fingers trail down Rhett’s thick, slightly veiny length. Link looks up at Rhett with hooded eyes and leans forward to kiss him. Rhett opens his mouth, licks into Link’s mouth as he presses forward, uses his hand to guide his dick into Link’s cleft. He lets it slide along the cleft, teasing Link as he slicks one of his fingers up.   
  
“Go slow,” Link whispers, and Rhett nods, kissing him reassuringly.    
  
Rhett runs his hand down Link’s lower back, pulling away a little so that he can reach his cleft, push the finger into Link’s hole. Link relaxes back against Rhett’s hand, tips his head back and leans it against Rhett’s shoulder. Rhett moves his hand, fucking him first with a single finger before he adds another one, mouthing at his neck all the while.    
  
“Nn—fuck—” Link moans, closing his eyes. Rhett curls his fingers experimentally, has Link pushing back into him always, asking for more. “Fuck me,” Link demands, all breathy and flustered. Rhett moves his fingers a little faster, scissors them inside Link a little. Link shakes his head, delirious, and repeats himself, “Rhett, fuck — just fuck me, put your dick in me—”   
  
Rhett nibbles at his neck before doing the same to his shoulder, pulling back to see what he’s doing, to take his dick into his hand and guide the head of it into Link’s waiting hole.   
  
“Fuck—Rhett—” Link whimpers, “fuck me,” he blabbers, and Rhett does. He leans in, crowding Link against the door, keeping his hands on Link’s waist as he fucks up into him. He trails one of his hands down to wrap it against Link’s dick, brings him off in time with his thrusts.   
  
Here’s the thing, when Rhett drunkenly brought Link into the men’s room to kiss the shit out of him, there were people all around them that could see what they were doing, and yet they didn’t care one bit. Now they’re a little more sober, and they can’t blame the fact that they don’t care about people hearing them fucking on the alcohol.   
  
But Link would be lying if he said he didn’t care, if he said he was aloof to there being people who could hear him screaming out Rhett’s name as Rhett’s balls deep in him. He  _ likes _ it, and with the way Rhett’s pounding into him, Link figures Rhett likes it too. 

Rhett kisses any part of Link that’s close enough for him to kiss, fucks up into him and has Link tingling all over.   
  
“Harder,” Link breathes out, “fuck, Rhett, I’m so close—”   
  
He can feel Rhett nodding feverishly, can feel Rhett’s breath on his ear as he says, “Me too, baby.”   
  
Rhett holds Link’s waist more tightly so that he can fuck him faster, and he moves his other hand just the same, in short, rough strokes. 

With a loud grunt, Rhett pulls Link in by the waist, keeping Link as close as he can as he bottoms out for the last time. Rhett keeps him there for a few seconds, still as he tenses up and mutters an almost-pained-sounding,  _ “Fuck, _ Link.”   
Rhett keeps moving his hand, though, in strokes so quick all Link can see of Rhett’s hand is a blur. But Rhett doesn’t have to jerk him off for much longer, because the thought of Rhett coming inside him has Link following suit almost instantly, as he spills over Rhett’s hand and the door he’s leaning against. 

“Gosh,” Link says, shuddering as he comes down, leaning back and falling into Rhett’s chest, boneless. Rhett wraps his arms around him, kisses the side of his neck before he pulls out slowly, breathing hard. Rhett spins Link around to kiss him properly, smiling wide. He pushes Link against the door and kisses him over and over until it’s almost ridiculous, and Link laughs, stopping Rhett so that he can take a breath.    
  
Link looks up at him, smiling. He’s got his breath back, and he wants to kiss Rhett again, but he also wants to look at him, knowing that he was the cause of all the pleasure Rhett has just felt, that he’s the reason to the glint in Rhett’s eyes and the pink blush to his chest and cheeks.    
  
Rhett smirks down at him, mutters a low,  _ “Fuck.” _ __  
  
Link is trying to pretend like the word doesn’t flip his stomach upside down, even after all they’d just done.   
  
“What?” Link asks Rhett softly. Or he asks Rhett’s lips, because that’s all he’s looking at now.   
  
“I can’t believe Gregg did this.”   
  
Link shakes his head a little, gets himself in check, looks up at Rhett’s eyes. “Did what?” He’s still panting, and then he’s smiling uncontrollably when he remembers  __ why. But he manages.   
  
“Freakin’ brought me here to… He knew that I’d get jealous but I don’t think he anticipated… Don’t think he knows I want you so bad. God — seein’ you mackin’ on that guy…”   
  
“He was mackin’ on me!” Link says, his heartbeat picking up its pace even more.

Rhett laughs, “Alright… Seriously, I… Gosh. Maggie-Dee told me how Gregg knows I like you and it was his idea to bring us here. I wouldn’t be surprised if Gregg paid that guy.”   
  
“Hey,” Link says, laughing, “I’d like to think I’m attractive enough to get approached like that…”   
  
Rhett smiles, nods. “I’m kiddin’. Everyone in this freakin’ club wants you.”   
  
Link blushes furiously. “Shut up…” he says meekly.    
  
Rhett laughs a little. “It’s true.”   
  
Link shakes his head, smirks. “You like me,” Link states.   
  
“Nuh-uh,” Rhett mumbles with a smile, shaking his head.   
  
Link looks at him confusedly.    
  
“Love you,” Rhett mutters.   
  
Link opens his mouth in a wide smile to reply.   
  
  


 


End file.
